


House Call

by Simara



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Psychological Horror, past Harvey Dent/Edward Nygma because that's how I roll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-09 12:16:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12276294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simara/pseuds/Simara
Summary: Jonathan runs out of medication and the Scarecrow decides to pay Edward a visit.





	House Call

**House Call**

***

_Don’t you fret_

_My little pet_

_We’re off to see the doctor_

_And if this doctor isn’t in_

_We’ll have to find another._

***

 

Jonathan rummaged trough his drawer. He was cursing under his breath; unable to find his pill dispenser. _I must have left it somewhere_ , Jonathan realized, tapping his fingers on the drawer. _But where?_ His fingers found a rhythm.

_A-tisket a-tasket_

“Oh”, Jonathan rubbed his eyes wearily.

_I wrote a letter to my love_

_And on the way I dropped it_

He could remember now, remember quite clearly how he’d left his coat at Edward’s place last week. He hadn’t picked it up since.

_I dropped it, I dropped it_

_On the way I dropped it_

The dispenser had to be in his coat pocket. A quick glance towards the clock made it quite clear that it was no hour to ring up his pharmacist of choice, and his trust in back-alley quacks was feeble at best. He would have to go to Edward’s and--- was it really worth the effort, though? He was doing fine now, wasn’t he? No, no he would go over to Edward’s at once and--- Edward. A shudder crept down his spine. _Well, yes._ It whispered in the back of his mind. _Let’s visit Eddie._

 

A smile crept onto Scarecrow’s lips as he walked through the streets of Gotham. He hadn’t breathed freely in far too long. A mugger started following him after a while, he could see him out of the corner of his eye. Scarecrow stopped and turned around. The man was wise enough to make a run for it. The common crooks of Gotham knew better than to try their chances with someone as notorious as the Scarecrow. Flight was one of Scarecrow’s favourite primal instincts. Not quite as delicious as the fear that caused it of course yet a thing to be cherished none the less. He absently wondered if Eddie would try to run as well.

 

_As I knock, knock, knock_

_Upon the big front door…_

Scarecrow loved the humble sound created by bone – and his fingers where more bone then flesh indeed –  meeting wood. His guts filed with anticipation as Edward opened the door but he succeeded in keeping a straight face.

“Jon?” Edward was blinking. “You’ve got nerves to come here in the middle of the night.” A smile twitched onto Scarecrow’s face.

“The moon doth shine as bright as day. Let me in, Edward.”

_Leave your supper, and leave your sleep_

_And come with your playfellows into the street._

Edward seemed weary for a moment.

“Are you okay?” He asked. Scarecrow could see how his fingers tensed around something- must have brought a weapon to the door, clever little Eddie, always suspicious, always on the run.

“I’m fine”, Scarecrow said. “Let me in, Edward.” Edward stepped aside, allowing Jonathan to enter, and crossed his arms.

“You’ve left your coat here, you know? I thought about calling you but since you’ve been ignoring me for almost a week now I didn’t bother.” Scarecrow tilted his head.

“I’ve been working.” Edward rolled his eyes.

“I wouldn’t have guessed. Why did you come?”

“I came here to talk.” Edward seemed surprised. Scarecrow smiled. “We need to talk, Edward.” He purred. “We never talk.”

“Of course we do”, Edward said cautiously, taking a step backwards. Scarecrow followed him. “What do you mean?”

_Come with good will or not at all_

_Up the ladder and down the wall_

“You’re so vulnerable”, Scarecrow murmured, touching Edward’s face with his fingertips. “Your very soul is an invitation.”

“That’s a fucked up thing to say, you know that?” Edward snapped back, taking another step backwards. Scarecrow could see what he was grasping now. It was a gun. Scarecrow knew that Edward hated guns.

“I didn’t mean to scare you”, Scarecrow said. What a beautiful lie. “I missed you.” Edward’s face softened.

“That’s an understandable reaction.” He said with a smirk. “Company like mine is hard to find. If you kiss me now I might forgive you.” Scarecrow suppressed a scowl. What a petty sentiment, disgustingly human.

“How could I resist?” The Scarecrow leaned down and cupped Edward’s face into his bony hands. He could feel Edward’s pulse quicken as he kissed him. Edward let the gun slip back onto a small drawer by the door in order to put his arms around Jonathan’s neck, comforted for now.

“Apology accepted”, he murmured, putting his forehead against Scarecrow’s. “Want some coffee? You’re really cold.”

“I’d love something warm.” Scarecrow answered, licking his lips involuntarily. He loved the way his victims heated when they were terrified. Edward let go of his neck, heading for the kitchen.

“Was there something specific you wanted to talk about?” He asked as he set up the kettle.

“Why yes”, Scarecrow whispered, a cruel kind of cold seeping into his voice. “Yes indeed, my pet.” He could see Edward flinch and freeze at the nickname and Scarecrow could tell by the way Edward’s hands trembled when he busied himself with the kettle that he had finally figured out just what was wrong.

“Well”, Edward said in a forcedly chipper tone as he turned to face Scarecrow, eyes fixed on the door. “I guess it was about time to be properly introduced, wasn’t it?” Scarecrow laughed. It wasn’t a regular laugh, more like a rasp, a low cough-like thing. Edward shuddered but his smile didn’t falter.

“You’re a child”, Scarecrow said, extending a long, meagre arm to grab Edward by the tie – little Eddie, always working late, still dressed, so eager to impress – and pull him closer. Edward followed his lead; he knew that open resistance would only spur the Scarecrow on.

“Riddle me this”, he said, as he always did when he was too nervous to think and needed a minute to organize his thoughts. “What’s-“, Scarecrow put a finger to his lips and gave a stern, almost disappointed look.

“Hush”, he hissed, tugging hard at Edward’s tie, making him choke a little. “The grown-ups are talking.” Edward gulped.

“Why did you come here?” The Scarecrow crooked his head in a way that looked highly uncomfortable. Then he said, in a sing-sang voice: “ _Jonny came to play and left a little box; couldn’t find the box no more and finally he snapped_.” Edward’s eyes widened.

“Oh”, he said, because it all made sense and he was almost relieved. Jonathan would never do this on purpose, he reassured himself, Jonathan doesn’t mean to, no, Jonathan is almost always in control, so very unlike Harvey – His train of thoughts was interrupted by a purring noise.

“You’re almost delicious when you think about him. It’s that little glimmer of hope in your eyes that’s slowly dying away. Poor, frightened Eddie.” And again he used that sing-song-voice that made Edward’s skin crawl: “ _Daddy used the belt on you and Harvey slapped you ‘round, Jonny knows what’s best for you, he’ll leave you gagged and bound_.” Scarecrow touched Edward’s cheek – the morbid parody of a caress – before dragging his nails down Edward’s face, drawing blood. Edward remained frozen, his teeth set, his heart beating painfully fast. Panic spread its ragged wings within his stomach and crawled upwards, suffocating him from within. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move- Hell, he could barely think. But he knew, deep down he knew, that he couldn’t allow himself to listen and he tried his hardest to focus on that small, rational part of his brain that kept telling him to ignore the Scarecrow’s whispers. “Oh, look at you now, you pathetic little creature. No wonder Jonny likes to use you; you are such an easy prey. Does he tell you that you’re worthless? Does he lie and say you’re smart? Does he make you cry before he-“

“Riddle me this”, Edward said again. His voice did only break a little. The Scarecrow looked at him in a mix of mock-surprise and indignity. Edward continued: “What’s spreading light throughout the night and often through the day?” Scarecrow grimaced. He seemed almost insulted by such a half-hearted riddle. Edward couldn’t care less about Scarecrow’s disdain, though. He put all his weight into the blow and the table lamp shattered in a spray of green glass. Scarecrow hadn’t seen the attack coming; Edward had hit him right on the temple and thus knocked him out. His body reeled over and dropped to the floor with almost no sound; just like a marionette with all its strings cut loose. Edward let go of the lamp; shaking. There was glass sticking in his hand and he almost expected the Scarecrow to jump back to its feet and strangle him then and there. It didn’t though, and he calmed at least a little. Edward allowed himself a moment to compose himself before grabbing his phone. He gave his address without hesitation and hung up immediately. Then, he sat down, not on one of the semi-expensive chairs but on the floor instead and hugged his knees to his chest; forcing his breath into a more steady rhythm.

 

It took the Batman less than 10 minutes to arrive. He burst through the door instead of just using the doorbell like a normal person and Edward almost chided him for that.

“What’s this about, Nygma?” The dark figure demanded to know. His eyes where fixed on Edward who cracked a smile in response.

“I’m very well, thank you for asking.” Only now it seemed did the Batman realise that this was neither a trap nor a game and his voice changed audibly when he inquired:

“What happened?” Edward nodded towards the general direction of Scarecrow’s thankfully still unconscious body.

“I’ve had an unwelcome visitor. I was rather aghast to find that you aren’t even competent enough to keep someone as lowly as that locked away so I thought I might give you a hand.” His own voice was hollow and numb and it didn’t take much to look right through the façade. The Batman handcuffed Cr– Scarecrow and checked his injuries – small cuts; probably a concussion – before turning to Edward.

“Get up.” Edward looked up at him with empty eyes but didn’t comply. He wasn’t even sure if his legs were steady enough to support him right now. Usually, the Batman would have seized him by the collar and dragged him to the Batmobile by now but today he was only stared at. “Edward”, the Bat growled. “Get up.” Edward didn’t find the energy for a witty response. He flinched as the Bat crouched down before him.

“You knew I would take you both in if you call me”, the figure said and he sounded almost human for a change. Edward shrugged. He wasn’t quite sure why he'd done it himself. Maybe he just really didn’t want to be alone right now.

“Couldn’t have killed the old bastard, now could I?” Edward paused, wetting his lips. “He needs medication. This isn’t… this isn’t him.” The Batman gave him a weary look. “I do see the irony”, Edward added in a hiss. “No need to mention it.”

“You care more for his well-being than yours.” It wasn’t a question. Edward scoffed and staggered to his feet.

“Let’s get going.” The Batman shook his head ever so lightly as he grabbed Edward’s arm.

“You deserve better, Edward.”

“Yes”, Edward said, giving his most charming smile. “I do.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween, y'all!


End file.
